


Good Vibrations

by pterodactylichexameter



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Roommates, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterodactylichexameter/pseuds/pterodactylichexameter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Rowan catches Aelin masturbating</p>
<p>"Aelin checked her phone. 6:15. He must’ve just gotten to the gym which meant she only had half an hour of safe alone time. It wasn’t great but she could work with it. (Oh she could work with it.)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Vibrations

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I'm still trash
> 
> This is MODERN AU in case you didn't see the tags and you don't like that kind of thing.

Aelin was heading back from work, already strung high from yet another argument with the idiot in the back of her music theory class, the one who never bothered to do the reading and then insisted he did, and the general incompetents she shared a schedule with. She was ready to just get back to her apartment and go out for a run--and a very long one at that--to let out some tension before she went back to the music building for an evening practice session.

Her plans, however, stopped short when she passed by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that opened into the gym she and her roommate frequented. 

She and Rowan were friends in the best sense, comfortable enough to openly talk about issues between them and respectful enough for him not to leave the seat up in their one shared bathroom and for her not to let Fleetfoot up on his bed (that he knew of, of course). If she got too drunk and came back sloppy and stumbling over herself, he’d inevitably frown at her in the dark as he emerged from his room (he rarely went out), and nonetheless help her off with her shoes, making sure she got either to the bathroom or her bed, always with a glass of water and an aspirin for the morning.

And did she mention he was hot? As in, girls down the hall stopping by every chance they got and middle-aged women checking him out in the grocery store.  A magnet for every and anyone attracted to anyone of the male gender when he wore a tank top and walked Fleetfoot.

Aelin, though, was one of the only people who knew how much he actually worked for how good he looked, how many hours he clocked in at the gym and the miles he ran before work every morning.

It was hardly a surprise, then, when she caught sight of him through the glass that looked in on the weights area of the gym. Bench pressing what must have been close to twice her weight, he was a veritable walking gym advertisement.

Aelin paused, nearly running into the woman behind her, mumbling a half-assed apology, eyes glued to the tight muscles bunching along his arms and shoulders, well aware of the fact that he looked stronger than every other man inside, men who probably could barely handle his training, much less without a spotter.

Aelin bit her lip at what his broad shoulders were doing to his fitted shirt, damp at the collar. She’d never  _ pretended _ he wasn’t attractive, and it had always seemed that he didn’t pretend she wasn’t good looking either, casually complimenting her when she dressed up. 

With the certain intimacy that came with friends living together, they’d had their fair share of near-nude experiences. Nothing ever happened, though, not even with him walking around (gloriously) shirtless weekend mornings or the more occasional run from his room to the bathroom in just a pair of boxer briefs. It was times like those that she pretended not to notice the significant bulge she could only guess at when he was wearing real pants.

And if he was bothered by her delicate lingerie hang-drying in the bathroom, or that she came back from her run in just a sports bra and spandex when it was especially boiling outside, he didn’t give any indication that her body was anything more than a body. Not that she was  _ bothered _ by his seeming lack of interest; it was just the way he acted. Next to nothing ever phased him, much less her. (Whether she  _ wanted _ him to react to the sight of her in a t-shirt and underwear was an entirely different story).

So she she really shouldn’t have stopped to look at him and imagine what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms (probably akin to hugging a bear, she’d always thought), or for that matter, imagine what it would feel like to kiss him senseless. 

A few reps later, he put the bar aside and sat up to grab his towel.

Her eyes were certainly not following the bulge of his tricep when he reached back to pat the nape of his neck, nor the patch of skin at his hip bones where his shirt rose up, or the darker trail of hair leading into his shorts. . .

Aeling tore her eyes away, groaning slightly and setting at once for home before he could see her ogling. She needed to take Fleetfoot out--he’d be antsy by now--and exercise, let off some steam for crying out loud. She was wound tight as a top and just needed  _ something.   _ Alcohol, exercise, (an orgasm).

Fleetfoot hopped off the couch as soon as she had the door unlocked, barking once out of joy and immediately trotting over. The truth was that she was bigger than the apartment could really accommodate, but Dorian had failed to mention anything about  _ size _ when he’d gotten her a few years ago.

“Who’s ready to go out, hmm?” Aelin said, immediately casting her backpack on the couch and reaching for Fleetfoot’s collar.

As they were on their way back downstairs, Fleetfoot tugging excitedly on her leash, Aelin tried to think about something--anything--other than Rowan’s broad torso.  She wished she could say she didn’t fail miserably at keeping him out of her mind, already dangerously glazed over while they walked down to the park one block over. Everything felt like a jumbled mess inside of her, anger and frustration and excitement twisting her stomach and tightening her jaw.

She knew what she needed.

Rowan had a schedule, and a usually strict one at that. Home from work by 5:30. Gym no later than 6 and back by 7 for dinner and a shower.

Aelin checked her phone. 6:15. He must’ve just gotten to the gym which meant she only had half an hour of  _ safe _ alone time. It wasn’t great but she could work with it. ( _ Oh _ she could work with it.)

Once Fleetfoot had finished up, Aelin practically bolted back to the apartment, the hound blissfully unaware, but more than willing to put her long legs to good use if her owner was.

It had been a long time--too long--since she’d spent any sort of time getting herself off.  Between school, work, Fleetfoot, and worrying about her protein intake and whether or not she was gaining any muscle mass, being concerned with seemingly trivial matters like quality alone time with the birthday present she’d gotten herself last year were far from her mind.

Inside again, Aelin unclipped Fleetfoot’s leash, hanging it by the door. The dog immediately set about the living room and kitchen, sniffing every corner as if to make sure nothing had changed in the ten minutes they’d been gone.

Aelin, though, kicked off her shoes on the way to her room and rifled through her nightstand, falling backwards on her unmade bed.

It was as if she’d been waiting years for this, stripping off her pants and settling back against the pillow with her breath high in her chest.

She’d never dared to use anyone specific in her fantasies, always nameless bodies. But now?

An almost hesitant touch to her belly made everything that much more real and she eased herself into it with closed eyes. How to start?

She traced soothing lines over her skin, pulse fluttering in her veins, and imagined Rowan walking into the room and giving her one of his smirks--the rare ones, the ones she’d never seen him give anyone else.

He’d pull his shirt off in that guy way, lifting it over his head by the collar instead of the hem, and crawl up the bed towards her, kissing a line up the inside of her thigh. . .

She rubbed herself lightly through her panties, replacing the feel of her own fingers with  _ Rowan _ .

He’d tease her, of course, palms pressing up her body, under her shirt.  The hand she rubbed over her breast was his, catching on her peaked nipple through her thin bra; broad, firm, calloused.

If she’d been  going about it the  _ right  _ way, she’d spend more time on this part: building the fantasy. But there was no time for that, and she didn’t even particularly need it with the memory of Rowan stamped so firmly in her mind.

She glanced down at herself, at her back arched off the bed, and slid one palm past the waistband of her panties. Her eyes fell shut of their own accord--closing out as much of the real world as possible.

In her mind there was only the touch of Rowan’s mouth and tongue between her legs, kissing and licking and  _ sucking _ (she knew he’d be good at this. Didn’t have any evidence, just knew). 

Before long, she fumbled for her vibrator lying on the bed next to her, switching it on the lowest speed.

It slipped easily through her folds, settling against her clit in a way that had a broken moan falling from her mouth.

_ Fuck, _ she wanted him. Wanted him so badly she ached with the fantasy of him there with her, thought that she might combust from the ghostly brush of his lips and hands, couldn’t imagine what it’d really be like if he were there.

She  _ needed _ him, the rush coming sudden and desperate, so strong she let out a low moan that he wasn’t beside her, over her, his lips and tongue and goddamn  _ arms _ on her.

“Rowan,” she gasped when she flipped the speed up, shuddering with the pleasure rocketing through her belly. She imagined what his fingers would do, two in her, maybe, before he fucked her, and--

Her bedroom door creaked and a muffled curse fell through the doorway.

Aelin jolted up, shoving the vibrator under her tangled sheets. The fantasy of Rowan fucking her up against the mirrors of the gym vanished.

She glanced up and almost wished she hadn’t, because the Rowan standing in the doorway couldn’t be real. She could barely face the consequences of real Rowan and fantasy Rowan coming into contact.

But it wasn’t a trick of her imagination, the very solid, very  _ real _ Rowan with his mouth hanging open was in her doorway and she was well and truly  _ fucked _ .

She wanted to melt into the bed. Disappear. Jump out the window.  Every cell of blood in her body seemed to be rushing to her cheeks and she fumbled for the sheets to cover her lower half with.

“I heard my name,” he said dumbly, clearing his throat and staring behind her, as if he still wanted to look at her without actually  _ look _ at her.

Embarrassment twisted her stomach into a tight knot and she debated burying herself in bed for the next three eternities. “You’re not supposed to be back yet,” she said, clearing her throat primly, preserving the last ounce of dignity she could muster.

“I got off work early.”  He was still in his gym clothes (light shirt, dark shorts), running a hand back through his pale hair. The tattoos around his upper arm curved with the motion.

She nodded slowly, silence hanging in the air. “So are you gonna stand there forever or let me get back to it?” It was all false bravado of course, and maybe he knew that, but she just needed him to stop  _ staring _ at her.  God knew what he thought. Probably that she was a perv. (And she was, sort of, but that was  _ different,  _ he didn’t need to  _ know _ about her getting off to the thought of him).

That didn’t seem like what he’d expected her to say, because he stumbled over himself, turning half around. “Is that what you want?”

“What?” 

His eyebrows were raised expectantly. “Do you really want me to leave?” 

It took her approximately four seconds to understand the underlying question, the one that ended in “or stay?” 

Aelin swallowed, a different kind of heat flooding through her.  “It’s up to you.”

Rowan met her gaze briefly, then stepped inside and eased the door shut behind him. 

A moment of tension hung in the air.

She was frozen in place, still half hidden under the covers, as he crossed the room and sat down across from her.  The question was still there, written across his face along with a glow of desire she rarely saw from him.

“As long as you’re sure,” she said, voice quiet, every muscle in her body vigilant, aware of how close he was.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” The words wooshed out of him and then she was leaning forwards, breath shallow.

Their mouths found each other gently at first, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.  He kissed like it was the most important thing in the world, like he was trying to reassure her of something. And it wasn’t just anyone she was kissing; this was  _ Rowan _ , her roommate, her best friend.

His lips were slightly chapped against hers, moving slowly until they broke for a moment, sharing heavy breaths.

The look in his eyes, bright and heavy all at once, like liquid silver, made her shudder.

Suddenly it was as if every hesitation vanished, and they came together, his broad palms framing her face, sliding into her hair when her lips parted against his, kissing him deeply. It was new and exciting and she could hardly believe it was even happening at all, that his hands were sliding down her back, tugging her into his lap.

Rowan’s skin was almost hot to the touch, still slightly damp from his workout. He smelled like sweat and laundry detergent and the scent of his shampoo. She wanted to bury her face in his neck and never let go, so long as this (whatever it was) was mutual.

She kicked the covers off, sinking closer to him, fingers catching in his white shirt, sliding over the thick bulges of muscle beneath.  Then men she’d been with before had been fit, certainly, but nothing like Rowan.  _ No one _ was anything like Rowan.

Everything about him overwhelmed her-- the surprising softness of his hair, the warmth of his skin, the way he kissed her, like he’d been waiting as long as she had for this. . .

She let out a soft groan when his mouth slanted across hers, tongue slipping past her lips. She grappled at his shirt, hiking it up until he broke away to tug it over his head, chucking it off her bed.

She’d never allowed herself the chance to really stare, at least not when he was aware, and certainly not in these circumstances.  Every inch of him read powerful: the swells of his abs, the strength in his arms and shoulders, his hair he kept short enough to never get in the way, and most of all, the dark expression on his face.  He was looking at her like he wanted to  _ devour _ her.

“Aelin I--” but he seemed to catch himself, pausing.

She gave him a sly smirk,  tugging at her own shirt, and before she’d even pulled her arms through the sleeves, he was there, laving at her collarbone, tracing a wet line down the valley of her breasts, holding onto her firmly with one arm wrapped around her torso.

She’d thought there would be more conversation, more discussion, and was more surprised to realize that he was just as desperate as she was.

He tugged the cups of her bra down, letting out a slight groan, as if he’d thought about seeing her breasts for longer than just the past five minutes. He kissed them reverently, wide hand covering one, thumb brushing over her peaked nipple while his tongue circled the other.

When he started inching down her body, finally settling firmly between her thighs, Aelin shuddered, toes curling at the prospect of what he was about to do.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, laying a soft kiss to her navel while his finger lightly pulled at the lace bordering her panties.

She tried to muster up words, but seeing him there, half-clothed, lying between her open thighs, was so astoundingly thrilling that she only nodded, fingers curling instinctively in the sheets.

Rowan took his own sweet time in a manner of speaking, nibbling at the skin just above the waistband of her underwear. She was blushing, face hot, hoping he wouldn’t look down any more and see the damning evidence of just how interested she was in this particular fantasy-turned-reality.

“What were you thinking about, when you moaned my name?” His lips drifted over the seam of her thigh, finger lightly tracing the damp patch of her panties. So much for not noticing.

Her breath hitched and she swallowed hard. “You.”

“Obviously,” he drawled, giving her a teasing smile. Nothing about him seemed uncomfortable. Hesitant, maybe, but not uncomfortable.

“This. You between my thighs.”

“My mouth or my cock?” He hooked his fingers into the waistband and eased them down.

A roar of flame shot through her. “Mostly your tongue, but I’m not opposed to either of those.”

Rowan hummed in satisfaction, as if that was all the confirmation he needed, and ducked down, licking a long line through her folds in one swipe.

She practically shook with the pleasure shooting through her when he licked into her. Her hips rose to meet him when he pulled away slightly but he just wrapped one arm under her thigh, hand splayed wide on her lower belly to keep her in place.

Aelin’s mind was everywhere at once, anchored to everywhere he touched her, his hand on her calf, lifting it over his shoulder so her heel dug into his back.

It had been too long since she’d had this, and she suspected it was the same for him. In all of the few years she’d known him, he’d never once had anyone over or stayed the night somewhere else.  She’d  _ missed _ this, missed the feel of someone’s body against hers.

The swirl of his tongue, the way he’d suck gently at her, eyes closed, her hand grasping at his hair, had her rising quicker than any toy could.

But when he reached over, blindly searching through her sheets until he pulled out the pink vibrator she’d uselessly hidden upon his arrival. . .

_ Fuck _ .

Aelin sucked in a long breath, mouth falling open as he fumbled with the switch, finally managing to turn it on.  “And what did you think, Rowan? When you saw me with that.” She should have been concerned, maybe, with his seeming familiarity with that particular sex toy.

“How much I wanted to be the one using it on you.” He held it with the hand hooked under her thigh, the other reaching between.

Aelin’s heels pressed harder into his back. A surge of confidence rose in her, at the prospect that she made him just as desperate as he did her.

“I can hear you using it, you know,” he slid a finger in her, hooking it up as he watched her reaction, the vibrator still away from her skin.  “You think you’re being quiet but these walls are thin.”

She couldn’t resist a whimper, both from his words and the second finger he added to her. 

“Then use it already,” she bit out with a curse and she felt flames licking through her body when he pressed it to her.

It was too much, too overwhelming at first to even comprehend anything, but he was a fast learner, and pumped his fingers slowly in her, moving the vibrator against her until she was trembling and moaning with her eyes rolling back in her head.

Aelin squirmed underneath the weight of him, nearly seeing spots. She glanced down, watching his hips grind into the bed. He was loving this, and that only made her rise higher.

The image of him listening to her get herself off through the wall, his hand on his cock, was what did it for her. She arched up off the bed, crying out suddenly while her release throbbed through her, not having to be quiet or hold back for the first time since she’d moved in with him.

Rowan was murmuring quiet soothings, easing her through it. “That’s it, Aelin, you’re so beautiful like this.”

Eventually everything was too much and she reached down to pull the vibrator off her. She was limp and boneless, relaxing against him when he switched the toy off, throwing it to the other side of her bed.

His fingers left a wet imprint on her hip and she grabbed his hand, pulling him up to lie next to her.

Before he could say anything, could tell her that he was fine, that he didn’t need anything in return (she knew him well enough to know that those exact words would probably follow in the next thirty seconds if she didn’t say anything), she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a deep kiss.

His mouth tasted like her but she didn’t care, sucking his lip between her teeth and wrapping her thigh over his hip.

He was still in his shorts and when she pressed in close, she could feel the hard ridge of him. And it was more than she’d expected. Much more. “There’s condoms in my nightstand,” she murmured, nipping at his ear.  Not letting on how much she was ready at the feel of him through his shorts was. . . difficult. 

Instead of meeting his gaze, she leaned in to taste the skin under his jaw.

“ _ Fuck _ , Aelin,” came the reaction that rumbled through his chest and then he was hoisting himself up, reaching over her to yank open the drawer on the side table by her bed.

But when he pulled out the box, giving it a once-over, he looked down at her, still half under him.  “These won’t fit.”

She shoved him a little, rolling her eyes. Couldn’t he see they were desperate, here? “Ha ha, very funny.” She rifled through the box, tearing off one from the rest.

But he was just looking at her with one brow raised, mouth a wry line. 

Her jaw dropped. “ _ Fuck _ , you’re not--you’re kidding, right?”

He only shrugged, leaning in to kiss her slow and deep, making her toes curl and the condom slip out of her hand.

His fingers slid over her wrist, pulling her hand down, between them, until her knuckles bumped the front of his shorts. 

“Maybe you should turn down that ego of yours,” she murmured, smiling against his lips, even though she’d gone slightly weak in the knees at just  _ how much of him _ she could feel. 

“It’s entirely useless to pretend you don’t know what you are, Aelin,” he said, slightly breathless with her hand still on him.  “It’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing when you walk around in those shorts.”

She knew exactly which ones he was referring to: the spandex ones, so tight they were like a second skin.

“Last I checked it wasn’t a crime to wear those in my own apartment,” she said, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wear them for his benefit. “And besides, you never react to them, so why shouldn’t I wear them?”

Rowan’s expression turned dark and he tipped her chin up, ducking to kiss her throat, teeth dragging along her skin. “Aelin,” he said quietly. “You have no idea what those do to me. What  _ you _ do to me.” 

There were other implications to what he was saying, ones that had her stomach turning over in nervous anticipation. Not necessarily a bad thing.

“Maybe you should go get your own condom, then,” she murmured thickly.

It only took him half a second and then he was hauling himself out of bed, throwing open the door to her room.  He had to nudge at Fleetfoot to get her out of the way and keeping her from darting inside, and Aelin almost chuckled at his desperation.

She sat up quickly, doing away with the rest of her clothes and tossing them aside, lying against the pillows.  If only to see his reaction to her waiting, naked, in bed for him.

“I have  _ one _ left,” he was saying when he came back, tearing open the packet and kicking the door shut behind him.  When he glanced up, though, he paused.

She arched her back a little more, smirking up at him.

“Do you have any idea what you look like right now?” he murmured, eyes descending slowly, catching on the rise and fall of her bare breasts, the dip to her stomach, her thighs, slightly parted.

“I have some kind of idea.”

“Of course you do,” he said through a dark laugh. “You’re well aware of how beautiful you are.”

Aelin only offered him a sly smile and crawled across the bed, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and pulling him closer.  “So are you going to join me or not?” She pressed a slow kiss to the line between his abs, catching his hitched breath.

He was still holding the open condom when she looked up at him, hands hovering around the waistband of his shorts. “Can I?”

His throat bobbed with his slow nod.

Aelin traced the vee low on his waist with her nails, kissing the jut of his hipbone and flicking her tongue against his skin.

He murmured her name and she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, catching his underwear with them and easing them off, over his ass.

Her mouth went dry at the sight of him and she glanced up, almost expecting a cocky look to be sprawled across his features. Instead, he only looked hungry.

Aelin kept eye contact, reaching out to touch him.  A slow breath in through his lungs when she wrapped her mouth around him, a muttered curse.

“If you keep doing that--” His hand delved into her loose hair as she swirled her tongue along the head.

She was ready to tease him more, but he drew her head back.  “Aelin, just because you can come more than once, doesn’t mean I can, and--”

But he didn’t need to finish whatever speech he’d cooked up because she was tugging him down, backing up to the pillows and urging him after her. 

She watched him, eager, as he rolled on the condom and then she was pushing him on his back, throwing one leg over his hips.

“Figures you’d want to be on top,” he murmured through a chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it like this,” she purred, bracing herself on his chest.

“I’ll have you anyway you want me.”

When she slid down onto him, a low moan escaped with her breath and she buried her face in his throat at the stretch.  It’d been a long time, and he was plenty to accommodate.  

“Are you good?” He kissed the line of her jaw and splayed his hands over her back.

She was going to take a few more moments, but he shifted, pulling out slightly.

“You’re just--” She didn’t want to blow his ego more out of proportion but. . . fuck he felt incredible in her, better than she could have ever done with her fingers and imagination.

She tested a slow roll of her hips, breath washing hot over his collar bone.

And then he breathed her name through a groan and she jerked into him, shuddering, knees slipping on the sheets.

Before long he was growling into her skin, wrapping a thick arm around her middle and flipping them both over, thrusting suddenly into her.

She let out a cry, head falling back on the pillows when he hit just the right spot. His forearm was braced next to her head, the other grasping her thigh, hoisting it higher on his hip.

Wild curses tumbled from her lips and she held onto his shoulders, catching his mouth in a messy kiss as he pounded into her.

She whimpered when his hand reached between them, finding her clit as his tongue delved into her mouth.

She could tell he was holding off, his eyes screwed shut, and that only made her climb faster in time with his forefinger pressing against her.

“This is what I imagined, you know,” she said, nails scratching his back. “When I was getting myself off.”

He growled, low and deep, hips snapping into hers.  The bed was hitting the wall with each thrust but she didn’t care. “Tell me, Aelin.” He bit at her lip, catching it between his teeth.

“I saw you on my way home, at the gym.” She didn’t know where the words were coming from, just that they were flowing and she couldn’t stop them.  “I saw you lifting and I wanted you to fuck me there, against the mirrors.”

“And?”

“And after, in the shower, I’d get on my knees for you, Rowan, and ride you later, here, in my bed.”

His hips were relentless. She never wanted him to stop, rising up to meet him and breath catching when the first wave of pleasure hit.

She cried out, clinging tight to him, and he was gone in two more thrusts, her heels hooked over his ass.  His breath fanned out over her bare shoulder in short bursts, groaning against her. 

A fuzzy haze had settled over Aelin, damp hair clinging to the nape of her neck and she caressed the back of his neck idly, coming down from her high.

“I should’ve known you were interested in me this whole time,” she murmured through a sleepy smile.  Contentment warmed her chest and she realized that it just made sense, the two of them together.

He pushed himself up on his forearms, brushing hair back from her forehead.  “What makes you say that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” She shrugged. “I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life.”

Rowan shook his head through a grin spreading on his face. “You cocky little--”

But before he could finish, she tugged him down for a kiss, and that was that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Pls comment so I'll write more :)
> 
> Come join me in my trashcan on [tumblr](http://pterodactylichexameter.tumblr.com)


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